


The Question

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [86]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: "Can I ask you a question?""Of course, Peter.""Dr. Strange, were you afraid?"





	The Question

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kinda proud of this one...its like a not so bad version of A Letter to His Future.

   “Dr. Strange?”

   The sound of Peter’s quiet voice, calling up to him from his place spread out on the floor in front of the fireplace, with his homework surrounding his crossed legged form in a half circle, made him look up from the heavy volume sitting in his lap.

   His eyes were still hazy from translating, his legs were aching from where he was curled on the chair the past hour, and a mild headache was brewing in the back of his mind. Still, he found himself going to alert, the tone in Peter’s voice a familiar one.

   They were in the sitting room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace while it struggled to beat back the chilly fall air invading the Sanctum. It was late, almost too late for Peter to still be up with Stephen, doing homework on the floor, but Stephen had long since learned not to question it, knowing from May it was common behaviour at home as well.

   But that tone. Stephen already knew it had to be the reason why the kid wasn’t trying to sleep.

   Peter looked at him, expression looking at little lost, a little confused in a way that never failed to break Stephen’s heart. Yet, it was still obvious he was embarrassed, unsure, as though worried that whatever he was going to say might offend Stephen. Really, he should be used to it by now, but he never was.

   “Yes?”

   Peter took a deep shuddering breath, seemingly gathering his courage, even as his eyes danced away, “can I ask you a question?”

    Six words.

   Innocent in any other context but when he is sitting before Stephen, looking drawn and haggard in the flickering light of the fire, and suddenly its easy to remember that Peter is no longer a kid, but a young man. A young man who had suffered more then most his age, is a better man then Tony or himself were, and the very reason why they always tried so hard to protect him.

   Those were the words Peter would speak to him when he needed to know something about Titan, about Thanos, about the Soul Stone. Going on nine months since the Snap and Stephen has been consistently blown away by the kid’s ability to ask, to want to know when so many others have run from it as fast as they could.

   Stephen isn’t sure when he took up the role of co-mentor with Tony. It might have been when Peter began showing up at the Sanctuary, unannounced and shyly curious about everything magic. It might have been when the relationship between him and Tony caught fire, raging through them and inevitably drawing Peter closer into his circle. It might even have been the moment the kid saved his life at the hands of Ebony Maw. He isn’t sure, but he has since strived to be better.

   “Of course, Peter.”

   Peter might bare the scars of a man and a hero, but his personality was inescapably charming and heart-breaking all at once, as his expression crumbled a little, fingers picking anxiously at a thread on his jeans. Stephen could see the struggle plain as day, and despite himself, his stomach twisted.

   Most of the questions that Peter asked were variations of the same, especially when it came to the Soul Stone. It hadn’t taken long for Stephen to realize that Peter had more awareness then the average person, thanks to his spidey-sense and he was desperate to make sense of the cluttered memories. That was easy, Stephen could remember all of the Stone and answering his questions were far from difficult.

   Tonight, however, he sensed, would be something completely different.

   Peter’s voice held an almost imperceptible shake when he asked, “Dr. Strange, were you scared?”

   Those words, spoken tentatively, felt like Peter had just used his super strength to deliver a hard punch to his gut, sending the air whistling from his lungs. He found his eyes closing, mind hurtling back, back to the Time Stone, back to Titan. Stephen’s eyes stung at the memories, at the thought of the complicated emotions he felt, had endured.

   “I’m sorry,” came Peter’s voice, a tad frantic and a whole lot regretful. “That’s personal…I shouldn’t have asked.”

   Stephen opened his eyes and what he saw made his breath come easier. Peter was hunched in on himself, a light blush on his cheeks, fingers tangling together, and looking decidedly defeated. Stephen had watched him die so many times…he often forgot exactly what happened to _this Peter_. The words spoken in terror, the plea for comfort as he fell into Tony’s arms, the devastating apology that fell from his lips. Stephen had seen it all in high definition and so much worse in the Stone, and it was a strangely startling realization to know that it was the first time, the only time Peter had ever died, and he remembered it all.

   “No,” he found himself saying. “Peter, its alright.”

   He looked up, something like relief and hope in those eyes, like Stephen might be able to explain in some way that it was alright to be afraid of dying. It didn’t take a genius to know that Peter was ashamed of what he had done, said as he faded away, to know, that to Peter, those were hardly the actions of a hero.

   Yet, when Stephen went to answer the question, fully intending to be honest, he found it oddly complicated. His relationship with death was far different to that the average person. Stephen had already died at the hands of Dormammu hundreds of times, had experienced deaths far worse then the gentle emptiness of fading away. When he looked into the Stone and saw what would need to happen to win, it was but another sacrifice for the world, his real concern was for all the lives who didn’t have a choice in the matter…like Peter…who would have to suffer the consequences of Stephen’s decision without knowing the endgame.

   “Yes,” he found himself saying. “I was afraid.”

   He had been and in some small part of him, Stephen felt ashamed to admit it, to realize that after everything, he had still been afraid to lose his life, even though the alternative was so much worse. It didn’t matter that he didn’t really have a choice, or that he had done it anyway, the fact was he had never acknowledged it before. Even when it came to Dormammu, there had been so much riding on his decisions, on him staying strong over and over again that it hadn’t occurred to him, how _he_ felt about it.

   It didn’t feel good, but the way Peter looked up at him, with wide eyes and appreciation was almost enough to make it better. He tilted his head a little, seemingly considering it then, “even though you knew we would be alright? That we would all come back?”

   He almost said the words, _I didn’t,_ but managed to stop himself before they slipped out. Stephen had gazed into fourteen thousand futures and what he had seen was that every time they stood even a chance at the salvation of the Universe, Tony had been front and center. But the metaphor of a butterfly flapping its wings and setting off a hurricane was never more apt then in their situation. Stephen did what he could to start them off on the right path, saved Tony’s life and through some subtle maneuvering, Nebula’s as well, but after that…they were on their own. After that point there were one hundred and forty-six possibilities and most of them horrendous, Stephen had to hope.

   But that was too honest, that wasn’t what people wanted to hear after everything they survived, that _chance_ was the only thing that saved them. No, people have needed fairy tales for as long as they’ve existed, needed something to believe in and be comforted by. Stephen would be damned if he brought that crashing down on Peter of all people.

   So, instead he told a different kind of truth, “believing in something doesn’t make it any easier to act. If you jumped off a bridge, bungee jumped, knowing full well that the cords and harness tied around you will you catch you, it doesn’t make the fall any less scary, the jump any less hard to take.”

   Peter nodded, eyes dropping again, as he murmured, “what if I have to make that choice one day but am too afraid to jump?”

   Stephen’s heart broke at the sound of Peter’s shaky voice, the way he glanced up at him with a fearful kind of shame.

   All at once Stephen closed the volume in his lap, shoving the book onto the space next to him, and found himself kneeling on the floor in front of Peter, who seemed startled by the sudden actions.

   “Peter,” Stephen said clearly. “You already have made that choice dozens of times over and have always taken the leap.”

   At his confused expression Stephen continued, trembling hands gripping his shoulders.

   “That spider bite chose you Peter, those abilities chose you, but it was _you_ that chose this life, to use them to help people. Every time you go on patrol, the moment you hopped on board that spaceship after Tony, you made that choice and didn’t even hesitate. There is no doubt in my mind that you would pick the path that helps the most people.”

   Peter’s eyes were glassy, reflecting the firelight but there was also a small smile on his lips, as he nodded. Stephen shook his head and pulled him into a hug, heard him gasp in surprise because Stephen was definitely not the touchy type but he would not sit here and let this kid think he was any less then any of them. He was better, had always been better.

   “Thank you,” Peter whispered, as he pulled away, wiping at his tears.

   Stephen gave a curt nod, standing, “don’t forget you can ask me anything alright?”

   “Yeah, I will.”

   The sound of footsteps made them both look up. Tony walked in looking both exhausted and amused as he took in the sight of Peter’s homework strewn over the floor and Stephen’s stack of books next to the couch.

   “Alright workaholics, I’m being the responsible one for once and declaring it bed time!”

   Stephen snorted, “now I know you’ve had a long day, I take it the phone meeting didn’t go well?”

   Tony shook his head, while Peter began gathering his things, “when does a meeting ever equal enjoyable or time well-spent?”

   Peter ducked his head at both of them, “goodnight Mr. Stark, Dr. Strange”

   “Goodnight Peter,” Stephen murmured sending the kid a smile that he returned.

   Tony patted his shoulder as he went by, “don’t forget we’re portalling you home by nine, if you’re late May will have my head.”

   “I’ll be up,” Peter called over his shoulder as he sprinted up the staircase.

   They both watched them go, before Stephen finally turned his gaze on Tony’s back, “how much did you overhear?” he asked quietly.

   Tony turned around, guilt in his eyes, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on you two, but I knew something has been bothering the kid for awhile.”

   Stephen sighed and made his way over to Tony, who immediately took him into his arms, gripping him tightly, “he’s not a kid anymore Tony,” he whispered.

   Tony buried his face in Stephen’s neck, squeezing him, “I’m starting to get that.”

   There was a long pause of them just holding one another, but Stephen couldn’t help himself, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

   Tony pulled back, eyes wide and startled, and even harder to meet with his own, “Stephen,” his tone a confusing mix of harsh and insistent. “You don’t ever have to apologize for how you felt. I might have had to live with losing you and Peter, with losing half the world but that doesn’t mean it was wrong for you to be scared.”

   Stephen sighed, knew his hands were trembling worse then usual, “I’ve died so many times…I shouldn’t-”

   Tony cut him off, hands gripping either side of his face and whispering fiercely, “you shouldn’t ever get used to dying, no matter what you saw, what you know…if you weren’t afraid, I would be more worried then if you are. _Stephen_ , you’re only _human_.”

   He squeezed his eyes closed, willing the images in his head to stop, “its easy to forget that sometimes.”

   Tony pressed a hard kiss to his forehead, holding it for several moments before Stephen felt him tug him back into his arms, “that’s alright, you have me and Peter to remind you.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the lack of IronStrange in this one.


End file.
